


Resurgam

by springburn



Series: Dr Who mini fics and prompts [6]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, I Love You, Loneliness, Manipulation, Separations, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missy has drawn The Doctor into a fateful trap......</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resurgam

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from petersgal......thank you so much for the challenge......
> 
> "So,of course we have all heard the news that jenna is leaving our glorious doctor for pastures new,good on her,but was wondering..as a prompt...how do you think she will go???just leave or die!!!!ill leave this with you.."
> 
> So, this is my take on the ending for Clara........hope you like it.

RESURGAM.

 

The pale sun cast its light across the rocky plain, it glinted on the sides of the Doctor's sunglasses as he scanned the barren horizon.  
He could still see the look on her face.  
Frozen there as she was pulled away from him.  
"Goodbye Doctor. I love you."  
Sucked away, into the cosmic ether. The equivalent of being dragged into a black hole.  
No way back, at least not that he knew.  
Complete paradox.  
Peels of laughter echoed from stone to stone, mocking him.  
As the Vortex slammed shut. 

She'd known as soon as they'd stepped out.......actually, no.....she'd known ever since Christmas.  
His Clara.  
Living on borrowed time.  
Running......ever running.......reckless, euphoric......living for every moment.  
And they had, the two of them......The Doctor and Clara, in the Tardis.  
A team. A partnership.  
Mad adventure after mad adventure.  
Life was short......too short.  
They'd drawn closer, much closer......he was hopeful.......maybe......just maybe.....it would be possible.  
But her brown eyes told him......really it was only a matter of time, literally, and he had known it too, if he was honest.  
He'd only been kidding himself, SHE would catch up with them in the end.  
Somehow, somewhere, on one particular day or month or year, his nemesis would find a way to separate them.  
Rip them asunder. 

Glossy black wings fluttered into movement.  
The ravens lifted off, en masse, like a dark cloud whirling above his head and wheeling away, their harsh cries rending the air.  
Still the cackle of laughter reverberated around him, cutting through him like a knife.  
Turning, he began to pick his way across the rugged terrain, heading back the way he'd come.  
The laughter faded, and died.  
"Where are you going?"  
"Away from here, as far away from you as I can possibly be."  
"Oh, now Doctor........that's not the attitude. Where's your spirit?"  
She knew didn't she? She always knew.  
How easy it was to manipulate him. How simple to draw him in, with the promise of home.  
Because only she knew how he craved it, how the ache for it filled his waking hours.  
The deep pain he felt when he thought of it, and how he yearned for that telepathic connection, any connection.

She knew because she felt it too. The only one who could.  
"You can't bear to see me happy, can you? You just have to spoil it. Every time."  
"Oh, Doctor, we were friends.......close friends. I just want my friend back, that's all."  
"At the expense of Clara?"  
"She was in the way. What can I say? It would never have worked you know.......I know what you wanted, what you were thinking......but it would never have worked."  
His anger rose then, his fists curled at his sides as he fought to control it.  
"You don't know that. I suppose you think it would be better with you?"  
"Well, of course it would!"  
She stepped in, close to him, he could smell sickly perfume, feel her breath.  
"Why do you think I went for a little modification with this regeneration?"  
"You're mad!"  
He leaned away from her, fearful, his eyes hooded, fixed on her face.  
She ran a fingertip down his cheek.  
"You and I, Doctor. We could save our species. Think about it. Pure bred. Not a sapling half-breed like you imagined with your little companion!"  
"You're sick! Do you seriously think I'd even consider bringing prodigy into the world, that had anything to do with you?"  
"But you don't really have a choice, do you? And deep down, you know you want to. I can see it in your eyes. That need."  
Her hand squeezed his arm, but he tugged it away as if the touch burned him.  
She was right, there was a tendril of arousal in him even now, even as he stared at her with hatred in his heart.  
He could take her, then and there, and wipe that smile right off her face.  
Backing away from her, ashamed, disgusted at his own minds betrayal, and knowing, as a fellow telepath, that she could sense it, he turned away again.  
"Leave me alone. Don't come after me again. Do you hear me? Don't!"  
"Alright Doctor! You run along now......find yourself another little human floozy, another simpering little side kick, who will hero worship you, and fall pathetically in love with you. Off you go!  
In your Tardis. And when it doesn't work out, yet again, and when you are desperate and keening and filled with the Timelord need to procreate.......you come and find me......give me a call......I'll be waiting!"  
She smiled a wide, false smile, and walked briskly away, swinging her ridiculous umbrella and swaying her hips as she did so. 

Once inside his Tardis, the door closed, he slumped down.  
The emptiness.  
'Twas ever thus......  
.......when they left him, for whatever reason.  
He remembered Rose.....that had been the hardest.  
In his wildest dreams he'd never thought to see her again, and it hurt like hell.  
It was a miracle they'd been reunited. Then he'd lost her all over again.  
Each time it happened, a piece of him broke, each time he swore he'd travel on alone, but it was tough.  
He'd learned that on Trenzalore........loneliness.  
It was profound, all encompassing, and he couldn't do it.  
Being alone just didn't sit well. Donna once told him he needed someone.......someone to tell him when to stop, when enough was enough......and she'd been right. 

Missy.  
She jerked him like a puppet on a string.  
Knowing exactly which buttons to press.  
Yanked his chain and he came running.  
He hated her and loved her at the same time.  
Once, he'd briefly entertained the thought of them travelling together, for all of time......but it was a pipe dream.  
She was evil.  
Rotten to the core.  
He knew it, she knew it.  
If he let his guard down, even for a moment, he would succumb to her, the desire, the lust.....to feel that symbiosis, that joining, that Timelord oneness.  
Oh God! It had been so long, and his whole being screamed for it.  
Completion. Fulfilment.  
Yes, God help him, he'd dared to imagine it could be like that with Clara, he hoped against hope, that maybe one day, he could give her a child. That they could watch it grow together.  
Even if it meant he would also watch her grow old and die......at least they would have some time, and there would be a continuance.  
A part of Clara Oswald would live on, and he'd be there, to care for her, for them both.....until it was time.  
But once again it had been ripped away. His hopes shattered.  
No matter how desperate, how lonely, he would not give in to Missy's demands.  
Alone.  
He would carry on. Grieving but at least dignified. 

He circled the console, letting his fingers run idly across the panels.  
"I guess it's just you and me again, old girl." He whispered.  
A thrum of machinery answered him, a living sentient beat, that was ever present. 

He threw the lever with a resounding clang.  
The centre column rose and fell, the rings of Gallifreyan symbols rotating and fusing in a dance of Time.  
Clara was gone.  
If he ever saw her again, it would be a miracle.  
Part of him died as she was drawn away.  
Now he needed to mend.  
To drift. To be lost to Time.  
He would return.  
Resurgam.  
I shall rise again.  
He would ride the wind.  
Weather the tempest among the stars.  
Sail the cosmos.

The oncoming storm.

**Author's Note:**

> Whatever the ending for Clara really is I'm hoping for a really great story.  
> Bring it on.....!!  
> Thank you Petersgal for the prompt.  
> I have a Malcolm/ Nicola idea for your other prompt and I'll work on that in the week!  
> Hope you enjoy this one!!


End file.
